


La Mode Fin

by Shameless_Dakini



Series: Margin to Center [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shameless_Dakini/pseuds/Shameless_Dakini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, turning into one's mother is inevitable</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Mode Fin

“Ginny! Lets go! We’re running late!” Harry yelled in the general direction of the stairs.

 

They were meeting Ron, Hermione, Terry, and Lavender for dinner in SoHo and were running late. Harry had just returned from a two week Auror operation yesterday evening and Ginny returned from her away-match in the early hours of the morning. Breakfast was had in bed and most of the morning was spent  _reacquainting._  Lunch was a light affair comprised of whatever could be found in their kitchen. They had both been away, the pickings were slim and Harry was famished and ready to eat. Reacquainting after all, took much energy. 

 

“Hey,” Ginny said warmly arresting Harry as he was shrugging on his jacket in the middle of the living room. She was wearing a form fitting pair of blue jeans that Harry had very fond memories of unbuttoning. She also wore a white tank top under and a partially buttoned red-stripped shirt, originally Harry’s from when he was 14.The reality of _them_ and the realisms of _living together_ were only a few months old. Ginny's fashionable ensembles comprised of pilfered clothing were still new and exciting. Harry experienced a small jolt of possessive pleasure every time Ginny creatively integrated his old clothing into anything she wore _out of the house._ Ginny came up and wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him in for a kiss.

“Hi.” Harry said brightly after but then looked down at his beautiful girlfriend concerned. She was looking at his face searchingly and her hands were now moving slowly from his waist to his sides. Harry thought perhaps the touch was caressing and indicative of foreplay except every few centimeters Ginny was ever so slightly pressing her hands, as if testing for something.

 

 “Whats wrong?” Harry asked.

 

 “Nothing. I’m just…looking. At you. Who knew I’ld miss looking at your frowning mug so much!” She grinned but her fingers and hands were still continuing their gentle probing scatter.

 

“Right. Well, I can have some photographs done of me frowning if you’d like. You can keep them in your kit bag or purse. Pull them out at parties and pubs. Add visuals to your impressions and stories.”

 

“Promise?! I think they’ll really help. I keep telling people you’re horrible and very sour to me, but no one ever believes it. The photos would help a lot.” Ginny replied with serious excitement.

 

“Certainly!” Harry grinned, “ _Everyone_ believed I stay with you out of fear after _The Prophet_ published those photos of Dustin Burns falling through the goal posts with a Quaffle to his stomach!”

 

Dustin Burns was the Keeper for the Wigtown Wanderers. Unfortunately for him, he had asked Ginny Weasley out before the game, intimating that he could “soothe her tears and hurts” away when she lost. When Ginny declined, his comments became a bit more lewd and far more insulting. (The Harry&Ginny thing wasn't a secret per say, but they both preferred it private as long as possible) During the match, the Quaffle sailed through the goalposts at least three times via the Keepers stomach. The Harpies won.

 

Ginny giggled, breaking character, and leaned forward to nuzzle into Harry’s chest but Harry intercepted her with another kiss.

 

“Fear of your girlfriend is a healthy part of any relationship,” Ginny said casually as they parted.

 

“Very true. Having to abate your rage with sex is a burden of course, but we all have our crosses to bear.”

 

Ginny hit him lightly in mock affront but the affect was ruined as she started giggling.

 

“Does the Auror department know that you’re a sarcastic sod?”

 

“Oh Yeah. It’s a part of the training actually. Well, not for me, I got an exemption from Kingsley. But it’s a pretty grueling part of the course work, especially for those born without my particular gifts.”

 

Ginny laughed and pecked him on the lips again. Her eyes softened and she asked,   “Are you _sure_ you’re okay? If you’re tired, or sore, or need to rest, we can cancel”

 

“Really I’m fine. I’ve been in a tent with Neville and Sharon in the Carpathian Mountains for two weeks. I need socialization!”

 

“They didn’t find quips and barbs as amusing?” Ginny asked with affected condescension.

 

“No. They obviously don't share you're discerning tastes. Apparently, I’m not Neville’s _type,”_ Harry said affronted. Ginny giggled.

 

“Hey!” Harry added looking suddenly excited, “I found out who Sharon likes!”

 

Ginny grinned, “This very serious investigative Auror mission is starting to sound more like a _WitchTeen_  outdoor sleepover. Did you paint each others’ nails as well?”

 

Ginny knew Harry was not-so-secretly fascinated by the nail-painting ritual. Ginny who painted, repainted, and decorated her nails constantly had discovered a surprisingly interested partner the first time she painted her nails in their bed. For Ginny painting her nails was a calming ritual often done while watching the television, listening to the wireless, or chatting with her friends or family. Ginny hadn’t given a second thought to painting her nails while chatting with Harry on one of their rare evenings in. She had happily jabbered away while focusing on her fingers not really realizing Harry’s diminishing responses and intent focus on the application of polish. Harry found the entire ritual fascinating and had even attempted, with adorable reverence, to paint a nail. (It was surprisingly hard). Now when Ginny relaxed in their bed chatting and painting her nails Harry watched her happily. He was slowly growing bold in his color and pattern suggestions and attempts to paint nails properly.

 

Harry batted Ginny’s shoulder affectionately and excitedly asked again, “Do you know though?”

 

“Ernie right?” Harry visibly deflated.

 

“How long have you known? You didn’t tell me?!”

 

Ginny giggled, her heart melting at Harry’s adorableness.

 

“I didn’t realize you wanted to know. Or cared,” she responded still amused and warmed, “ I’ve known since after the Falmouth Attacks.”

 

Harry huffed. “Well, anyway. She told me now. Girls are so _weird_. You know they’ve spoken maybe twenty times in two years? I told her she should just go and ask him for a pint. Ernie would definitely say yes.”

 

Ginny pressed her lips together to prevent from giggling further. She _loved_ that she got these moments with Harry now, that she got to see the excited, happy, perplexed, and so stupidly _boy_ version of the man. She and Harry were never this open with each other in this way before. She wasn’t even embarrassed at how ridiculously _cute_ she found him. 

 

“She doesn’t _know_ he will say yes. You don’t either. Its scary.” Ginny explained.

 

Harry rolled his eyes, “A woman like Sharon asks a bloke for a drink. He says yes. Trust me. Girls as fit as Sharon rarely ask out blokes like Ernie. He’ll say yes.”

 

Ginny agreed with Harry’s assessment and then added with a mischievous glint, “Well look at you not so clueless! Oh, is it because that’s what people say about you and me?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed, “Well they did at first, but then they found out about my burdens and figured I was the only one for the job.”

 

“Oh right. The rage, the constant sex and fear. You truly are a man among men Mr. Potter, lesser men wouldn’t have been able to _keep up_ ,” Ginny quipped back with a truly salacious grin.

 

Harry smirked, opened his mouth and closed it again unable to think of a filthier or more zinging response. Ginny laughed and they shared a knowing look. Harry was very funny and dry, but  _rarely_ lascivious in his humor and Ginny felt it was one of the greatest of privileges that she got to hear when he was.

 

“Okay we are _definitely_ late. Hermione is going to give us her ‘on time is late’ speech, and Ron is going to assume its because we were shagging,” Harry said, getting to the matter at hand.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes, “We’re fashionably late. There’s practically _nothing_ more fashionable than arriving twenty minutes late looking thoroughly shagged.”

 

Harry raised an eyebrow unimpressed.

 

“Well, when you’re with Harry Potter it is?” Ginny cheekily defended.

 

Harry’s other eyebrow went up, “Cute. Why the delay?”

 

“I just wanted to make sure…you’re okay. The Healer cleared you awfully early after the mission. The Healer actually cleared you? You didn’t just rush out of there? You do that far too much you know.”

 

Harry nodded and assured her the Healer conducted the full post-mission physical and testing before clearing him to go home.

 

“Who was the Post-Mission lead Healer today?” Ginny asked.

 

“Missy”

 

“Oh. You know, I never found out how old she was. She looks quite young doesn’t she? Where did she study Healing again?”

 

“The _Ossa Studium_ I think,” Harry responded having a better understanding of where this was going and all the delay now. A vague warm feeling was uncurling in his stomach. It wasn't that he didn't know Ginny cared about him. But unlike Mrs. Weasley or Hermione, Ginny was very restrained and quiet about her worry, care, or desire to "smother him" in love. (Her words, not his.) Harry knew, that Ginny knew that he would find constant worrying, questioning, and "smother-care" regarding his chosen career exhausting and irritating. A wash of contentment filled him as he gazed at this woman, who knew him so well, who  _got it_ , and who was trying to very casually worry and unobtrusively check him over because she loved him. 

 

Ginny made a small unsatisfied noise. “Oh, I thought the Aurors only take graduates from Bath. How many years of experience does one need in Healing to work for the Aurors?” Ginny asked failing to sound casual and innocent. The magical healing institute located around the magical Healing waters of Bath was one of the oldest and most renowned Medical University in England.

 

“Really, elitism now? _Ossa Studium_ is just as prestigious. Since when did you gain such a thorough understanding of post-op care procedure and Auror medical requirements?” Harry asked smiling.

 

“Since _You!”_ Ginny burst out giving up her casual pretense, knowing she was caught, “Since these people are responsible for your care and well being and making sure you are fully checked after a mission! ”

 

“I’m fine. They _did_ fully check me out. I got home early because I’m perfectly fine.” Harry said patiently.

 

“Yes, well. I worry about your health. One of us has to,” Ginny pouted, “You know, if you hang on a minute I can pop over to Mum’s pantry and grab her Healing book. Just check for a few things, make sure everything’s okay.”

 

“Of _course_ , a household healing book would surely be more diagnostic than the lab or the Auror hospital!” Harry said clapping a hand to his forehead.

 

Ginny dropped her hands from his shoulders, crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a flat, un-amused, look. Harry sighed and smiled gently at Ginny.

 

“You know, Dr. Missy is a very qualified Healer. She studied with Order of the Heart at Sacre Couer for five years before working for the Aurors,” Harry said patiently.

 

“Yes, well. Mum used to check us over herself anyway whenever we came back from Hospital. Oh Bugger, I can't believe I just said that, I've turned into my Mum!" Ginny exclaimed looking only slightly horrified. Harry grinned and she shot him a glare, then tossing her hair back she confidently continued, "Well, its not the same. Because...Well, because I studied at an even more prestigious and esoteric Order. So secret, no one’s heard of them.”

 

“Oh, right of course. All that time you had during those many missing years between Hogwarts, Uni, and the Harpies.”

 

“Of course! really very powerful magic. I have to renew membership every year to make sure my practices are current!”

 

Harry snorted.

 

“Indulge my crazy,” Ginny demanded in a pleading voice, her hands went back over to his chest moving searchingly.

 

Harry gave her a small private smile and sighed, “Fine. Slight bruising. Left hip.”

 

Immediately Ginny’s hands went to the edge of his pants and began gently tugging out his tucked shirt and then skirted to his belt buckle, zipper and undid his trousers. She dropped down to knees and unearthed his hip, her hands framing the slight bruise on the left side.

 

“How did it happen?” She asked staring at the slightly purple skin.

 

“No idea. It doesn’t hurt and I don’t remember when or how I hit my hip.”

 

Ginny sighed in a vaguely scolding manner and then very gently pressed a kiss on the bruise and a few more on the surrounding area for good measure.

 

Harry grinned. “Important Esoteric Healing arts indeed,” he said drily.

 

Ginny, still on her knees, frowned up at him, expressing exactly what she thought of his lack of seriousness in her healing endeavors. “Where else?”

 

Harry looked down at her position and raised an eyebrow, “Do I get a reward if I tell?”

 

Ginny smirked. “Only if you’re very good. Who knows, maybe I can convince my Healing Order to add their practices to the Standard Post-Mission Check up.”

 

Harry grinned, “Ah well. In that case, right thigh too. The entire pelvic floor region, really. Very sore. Quite serious. ”

 

Ginny tugged the band of his underwear down a bit further and dropped a kiss on his iliac crest. She notched her chin in the rise above his pelvic and looked at him solemnly. “Just the bruise. Nothing else?” she confirmed.

 

Harry cupped the side of her face his fingers tangling in her hair, smiled down at her warmly and said, “Just the bruise.” Concern squared away, Ginny’s smirk returned.

 

“Well, then, I think what you’re feeling in this pelvic area bears further investigation. I might have to pull out some very specialized techniques!”

 

They were “fashionably” late for dinner.


End file.
